Legion World Forums LEGION COMPANION The Anywhere Machine Ronald Regan dies at 93

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Although he's the President that I dislike the most in the last forty years in terms of his policies, he did have a presence that no President has matched since. Regardless, there is no doubt that he helped define the 80's--I can't understand any of the 80's without him.

A pres with a sense of humor. Don't get many of those, most are stiffs.

R.I.P.

I have to admit he was the first president I voted for when I turned 18. That would have been for his second term. Personally I think he brought us through a difficult time that neither Carter nor Mondale could have handled.

You just have to remember that no president, no Kennedy or Lincoln, looks totally clean in hindsight.

Its interesting to note the White House issued a notice of his failing health earlier only to have it rebuked by Reagan's spokespeople.

He's the first American president I can remember.

40 years too late. And that's if you liked his movies.

Ken

He's the first president that I voted for, too. I remember being proud of the fact that I registered as an independent, so I could vote for whichever candidate I thought was the best without being bound by a political party.

I did take some flack over voting for him from my family, which was traditionally Democrat-leaning. And I can't even remember now why I thought Reagan was a better president than Mondale would have been, save that Reagan's charisma and optimism were infectious, something no other president had been able to communicate during my lifetime.

Reagan was the oldest man ever elected president (and, in the end, the longest living president). There was something reassuring in the knowledge that age held no bounds for him or his aspirations.

Well, obviously coming back here was a mistake. I won't trouble you folks again.

Ken

Cruel! yet somehow very accurate.

Because someone has a different opinion than you on a former President?

Good luck finding your own planet.

B'Bye!

I had read in an Associated Press article that Reagan had Alzheimer's for past 10 years, but I thought the Alzheimer's rumors started at the end of his second term, 1988?

They hadn't. The media just liked to portray him as a bumbling idiot, just like they like to take digs at any sitting president to varying degrees.

Saying nice things about a president does not sell papers, or commercial time on tv or radio.

Media whores, ya gotta despise them, lol.

One of the funniest skits i ever saw SNL do, however, was one of Reagan in the oval office with a girl scout or some kid from a tour or something.

With the cameras on, he was the genial old grandfather, but when they clicked off, he started spouting math figures and doing complicated economic formulas in his head, instantly switching back "on" when a photo or video was needed. Laughed my ass off at that one.

Ohhh, that was my post number 666, the mark of evil, lol. Funny that it was about a guy that called one of the greatest crushers of the human spirit the "evil empire".

Irony? I think so.

Reagan's Farewell Address

This is the 34th time I'll speak to you from the Oval Office and the last. We've been together eight years now, and soon it'll be time for me to go. But before I do, I wanted to share some thoughts, some of which I've been saving for a long time.

It's been the honor of my life to be your president. So many of you have written the past few weeks to say thanks, but I could say as much to you. Nancy and I are grateful for the opportunity you gave us to serve.

One of the things about the presidency is that you're always somewhat apart. You spend a lot of time going by too fast in a car someone else is driving, and seeing the people through tinted glass — the parents holding up a child, and the wave you saw too late and couldn't return. And so many times I wanted to stop and reach out from behind the glass, and connect. Well, maybe I can do a little of that tonight.

People ask how I feel about leaving. And the fact is, "parting is such sweet sorrow." The sweet part is California, and the ranch and freedom. The sorrow — the goodbyes, of course, and leaving this beautiful place.

You know, down the hall and up the stairs from this office is the part of the White House where the president and his family live. There are a few favorite windows I have up there that I like to stand and look out of early in the morning. The view is over the grounds here to the Washington Monument, and then the Mall and the Jefferson Memorial. But on mornings when the humidity is low, you can see past the Jefferson to the river, the Potomac, and the Virginia shore. Someone said that's the view Lincoln had when he saw the smoke rising from the Battle of Bull Run. I see more prosaic things: the grass on the banks, the morning traffic as people make their way to work, now and then a sailboat on the river.

I've been thinking a bit at that window. I've been reflecting on what the past eight years have meant and mean. And the image that comes to mind like a refrain is a nautical one — a small story about a big ship, and a refugee and a sailor. It was back in the early '80s, at the height of the boat people. And the sailor was hard at work on the carrier Midway, which was patrolling the South China Sea. The sailor, like most American servicemen, was young, smart, and fiercely observant. The crew spied on the horizon a leaky little boat. And crammed inside were refugees from Indochina hoping to get to America. The Midway sent a small launch to bring them to the ship and safety. As the refugees made their way through the choppy seas, one spied the sailor on deck and stood up and called out to him. He yelled, "Hello, American sailor. Hello, freedom man."

A small moment with a big meaning, a moment the sailor, who wrote it in a letter, couldn't get out of his mind. And when I saw it, neither could I. Because that's what it was to be an American in the 1980s. We stood, again, for freedom. I know we always have, but in the past few years the world again, and in a way, we ourselves rediscovered it.

It's been quite a journey this decade, and we held together through some stormy seas. And at the end, together, we are reaching our destination.

The fact is, from Grenada to the Washington and Moscow summits, from the recession of '81 to '82, to the expansion that began in late '82 and continues to this day, we've made a difference. The way I see it, there were two great triumphs, two things that I'm proudest of. One is the economic recovery, in which the people of America created — and filled — 19 million new jobs. The other is the recovery of our morale. America is respected again in the world and looked to for leadership.

Something else else that happened to me a few years ago reflects some of this. It was back in 1981, and I was attending my first big economic summit, which was held that year in Canada. The meeting place rotates among the member countries. The opening meeting was a formal dinner for the heads of government of the seven industrialized nations. Now, I sat there like the new kid in school and listened, and it was all Francois this and Helmut that. They dropped titles and spoke to one another on a first-name basis. Well, at one point I sort of leaned in and said, "My name's Ron." Well, in that same year, we began the actions we felt would ignite an economic comeback — cut taxes and regulation, started to cut spending. And soon the recovery began.

Two years later another economic summit, with pretty much the same cast. At the big opening meeting we all got together, and all of a sudden, just for a moment, I saw that everyone was just sitting there looking at me. And one of them broke the silence. "Tell us about the American miracle," he said.

Well, back in 1980, when I was running for president, it was all so different. Some pundits said our programs would result in catastrophe. Our views on foreign affairs would cause war. Our plans for the economy would cause inflation to soar and bring about economic collapse. I even remember one highly respected economist saying, back in 1982, that "the engines of economic growth have shut down here, and they're likely to stay that way for years to come." Well, he and the other opinion leaders were wrong. The fact is, what they called "radical" was really "right." What they called "dangerous" was just "desperately needed."

And in all of that time I won a nickname, "The Great Communicator." But I never thought it was my style or the words I used that made a difference: It was the content. I wasn't a great communicator, but I communicated great things, and they didn't spring full bloom from my brow, they came from the heart of a great nation — from our experience, our wisdom, and our belief in principles that have guided us for two centuries. They called it the Reagan revolution. Well, I'll accept that, but for me it always seemed more like the great rediscovery, a rediscovery of our values and our common sense.

Common sense told us that when you put a big tax on something, the people will produce less of it. So, we cut the people's tax rates, and the people produced more than ever before. The economy bloomed like a plant that had been cut back and could now grow quicker and stronger. Our economic program brought about the longest peacetime expansion in our history: real family income up, the poverty rate down, entrepreneurship booming, and an explosion in research and new technology. We're exporting more than ever because American industry became more competitive and at the same time, we summoned the national will to knock down protectionist walls abroad instead of erecting them at home. Common sense also told us that to preserve the peace, we'd have to become strong again after years of weakness and confusion. So, we rebuilt our defenses, and this New Year we toasted the new peacefulness around the globe. Not only have the superpowers actually begun to reduce their stockpiles of nuclear weapons — and hope for even more progress is bright — but the regional conflicts that rack the globe are also beginning to cease. The Persian Gulf is no longer a war zone. The Soviets are leaving Afghanistan. The Vietnamese are preparing to pull out of Cambodia, and an American-mediated accord will soon send 50,000 Cuban troops home from Angola.

The lesson of all this was, of course, that because we're a great nation, our challenges seem complex. It will always be this way. But as long as we remember our first principles and believe in ourselves, the future will always be ours. And something else we learned: Once you begin a great movement, there's no telling where it will end. We meant to change a nation, and instead, we changed a world.

Countries across the globe are turning to free markets and free speech and turning away from ideologies of the past. For them, the great rediscovery of the 1980s has been that, lo and behold, the moral way of government is the practical way of government: Democracy, the profoundly good, is also the profoundly productive.

When you've got to the point when you can celebrate the anniversaries of your 39th birthday, you can sit back sometimes, review your life, and see it flowing before you. For me there was a fork in the river, and it was right in the middle of my life. I never meant to go into politics. It wasn't my intention when I was young. But I was raised to believe you had to pay your way for the blessings bestowed on you. I was happy with my career in the entertainment world, but I ultimately went into politics because I wanted to protect something precious.

Ours was the first revolution in the history of mankind that truly reversed the course of government, and with three little words: "We the people." "We the people" tell the government what to do, it doesn't tell us. "We the people" are the driver, the government is the car. And we decide where it should go, and by what route, and how fast. Almost all the world's constitutions are documents in which governments tell the people what their privileges are. Our Constitution is a document in which "We the people" tell the government what it is allowed to do. "We the people" are free. This belief has been the underlying basis for everything I've tried to do these past eight years.

But back in the 1960s, when I began, it seemed to me that we'd begun reversing the order of things — that through more and more rules and regulations and confiscatory taxes, the government was taking more of our money, more of our options, and more of our freedom. I went into politics in part to put up my hand and say, "Stop." I was a citizen politician, and it seemed the right thing for a citizen to do.

I think we have stopped a lot of what needed stopping. And I hope we have once again reminded people that man is not free unless government is limited. There's a clear cause and effect here that is as neat and predictable as a law of physics: As government expands, liberty contracts.

Nothing is less free than pure communism, and yet we have, the past few years, forged a satisfying new closeness with the Soviet Union. I've been asked if this isn't a gamble, and my answer is no because we're basing our actions not on words but deeds. The detente of the 1970s was based not on actions but promises. They'd promise to treat their own people and the people of the world better. But the gulag was still the gulag, and the state was still expansionist, and they still waged proxy wars in Africa, Asia, and Latin America.

Well, this time, so far, it's different. President Gorbachev has brought about some internal democratic reforms and begun the withdrawal from Afghanistan. He has also freed prisoners whose names I've given him every time we've met.

But life has a way of reminding you of big things through small incidents. Once, during the heady days of the Moscow summit, Nancy and I decided to break off from the entourage one afternoon to visit the shops on Arbat Street — that's a little street just off Moscow's main shopping area. Even though our visit was a surprise, every Russian there immediately recognized us and called out our names and reached for our hands. We were just about swept away by the warmth. You could almost feel the possibilities in all that joy. But within seconds, a KGB detail pushed their way toward us and began pushing and shoving the people in the crowd. It was an interesting moment. It reminded me that while the man on the street in the Soviet Union yearns for peace, the government is Communist. And those who run it are Communists, and that means we and they view such issues as freedom and human rights very differently.

We must keep up our guard, but we must also continue to work together to lessen and eliminate tension and mistrust. My view is that President Gorbachev is different from previous Soviet leaders. I think he knows some of the things wrong with his society and is trying to fix them. We wish him well. And we'll continue to work to make sure that the Soviet Union that eventually emerges from this process is a less threatening one. What it all boils down to is this. I want the new closeness to continue. And it will, as long as we make it clear that we will continue to act in a certain way as long as they continue to act in a helpful manner. If and when they don't, at first pull your punches. If they persist, pull the plug. It's still trust but verify. It's still play, but cut the cards. It's still watch closely. And don't be afraid to see what you see.

I've been asked if I have any regrets. Well, I do. The deficit is one. I've been talking a great deal about that lately, but tonight isn't for arguments. And I'm going to hold my tongue. But an observation: I've had my share of victories in the Congress, but what few people noticed is that I never won anything you didn't win for me. They never saw my troops, they never saw Reagan's regiments, the American people. You won every battle with every call you made and letter you wrote demanding action. Well, action is still needed. If we're to finish the job, Reagan's regiments will have to become the Bush brigades. Soon he'll be the chief, and he'll need you every bit as much as I did. Finally, there is a great tradition of warnings in presidential farewells, and I've got one that's been on my mind for some time. But oddly enough it starts with one of the things I'm proudest of in the past eight years: the resurgence of national pride that I called the new patriotism. This national feeling is good, but it won't count for much, and it won't last unless it's grounded in thoughtfulness and knowledge.

An informed patriotism is what we want. And are we doing a good enough job teaching our children what America is and what she represents in the long history of the world? Those of us who are over 35 or so years of age grew up in a different America. We were taught, very directly, what it means to be an American. And we absorbed, almost in the air, a love of country and an appreciation of its institutions. If you didn't get these things from your family, you got them from the neighborhood, from the father down the street who fought in Korea or the family who lost someone at Anzio. Or you could get a sense of patriotism from school. And if all else failed, you could get a sense of patriotism from popular culture. The movies celebrated democratic values and implicitly reinforced the idea that America was special. TV was like that, too, through the mid-'60s

But now, we're about to enter the '90s, and some things have changed. Younger parents aren't sure that an unambivalent appreciation of America is the right thing to teach modern children. And as for those who create the popular culture, well-grounded patriotism is no longer the style. Our spirit is back, but we haven't reinstitutionalized it. We've got to do a better job of getting across that America is freedom — freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom of enterprise. And freedom is special and rare. It's fragile; it needs protection.

So, we've got to teach history based not on what's in fashion but what's important: Why the Pilgrims came here, who Jimmy Doolittle was, and what those 30 seconds over Tokyo meant. You know, four years ago on the 40th anniversary of D-Day, I read a letter from a young woman writing of her late father, who'd fought on Omaha Beach. Her name was Lisa Zanatta Henn, and she said, "We will always remember, we will never forget what the boys of Normandy did." Well, let's help her keep her word. If we forget what we did, we won't know who we are. I'm warning of an eradication of the American memory that could result, ultimately, in an erosion of the American spirit. Let's start with some basics: more attention to American history and a greater emphasis on civic ritual. And let me offer lesson No. 1 about America: All great change in America begins at the dinner table. So, tomorrow night in the kitchen I hope the talking begins. And children, if your parents haven't been teaching you what it means to be an American, let 'em know and nail 'em on it. That would be a very American thing to do.

And that's about all I have to say tonight. Except for one thng. The past few days when I've been at that window upstairs, I've thought a bit of the "shining city upon a hill." The phrase comes from John Winthrop, who wrote it to describe the America he imagined. What he imagined was important because he was an early Pilgrim, an early freedom man. He journeyed here on what today we'd call a little wooden boat; and like the other Pilgrims, he was looking for a home that would be free.

I've spoken of the shining city all my political life, but I don't know if I ever quite communicated what I saw when I said it. But in my mind it was a tall proud city built on rocks stronger than oceans, wind-swept, God-blessed, and teeming with people of all kinds living in harmony and peace, a city with free ports that hummed with commerce and creativity, and if there had to be city walls, the walls had doors and the doors were open to anyone with the will and the heart to get here. That's how I saw it and see it still.

And how stands the city on this winter night? More prosperous, more secure, and happier than it was eight years ago. But more than that; after 200 years, two centuries, she still stands strong and true on the granite ridge, and her glow has held steady no matter what storm. And she's still a beacon, still a magnet for all who must have freedom, for all the pilgrims from all the lost places who are hurtling through the darkness, toward home.

We've done our part. And as I walk off into the city streets, a final word to the men and women of the Reagan revolution, the men and women across America who for eight years did the work that brought America back. My friends: We did it. We weren't just marking time. We made a difference. We made the city stronger. We made the city freer, and we left her in good hands. All in all, not bad, not bad at all.

And so, good-bye, God bless you, and God bless the United States of America.

This is my opinion, and it is not nice, and it is not charitable in any way, and it is not Christian, and even as a Wiccan I shouldn't hate anyone....BUT......

I hated Ronnie and I hope he burns in hell. If that sonofabitch hadn't listened to the puritanical Good Ol' Boys and Bible-thumpers, WE MIGHT HAVE HAD A CURE FOR AIDS IN THE 80's !!!

I don't know how many funerals and memorials you all went to for friends, and brothers, fathers, significant others, etc. that died of AIDS, but I went to too many and I will never forgive the bastard that was in office.

Regan got to live to 93, and some of my friends died in their 20's. It's because of Regan's legacy that we still don't have a cure. 'Management' of HIV is not an option. 'Education' is not good enough! Give us the cure!

If you remember, Reagan was called the Son of Satan because his full name, Ronald Wilson Reagan, added up to 666.

I just can't buy into the theory that they're witholding an AIDS cure. There's TRILLIONS to be made there, and human greed wouldn't allow for any witholding of the cure if it exists.

On Reagan, well, it's a shame when anyone dies and Alzheimer's is a terrible disease I wouldn't wish on anyone. I wouldn't want to live to 93 with it.

That's all I have to say on him because I doubt the rest would be very nice.

R.I.P

Ya know, there are times when it seems like common civility is a thing of the past around here.

I dispise clinton and the mockery he made of the white house, the presidency, and the making of fools of all his supporters. I loath and revile the fact that so many people willingly followed along behind a pied piper Henry Hill, without the redeeming qualities.

And yet...

The day he dies, i will not be posting hate. I may think him to be a human piece of walking manure, but that won't be the time to post it. People other than me have feelings and will be in mourning.

I think a lot of the class of america has passed us by. We have become a nation of course people that wear it proudly and act as if freedom of speech means you have the obligation to try to denigrate anyone and everyone at all times, especially the worst possible times.

I have heard people crying about the aids situation, yet only a fractional minority had no control over contracting the disease. Others, through personal choice engaged in behavior when all the warnings were out there. I reached adulthood in the mid 80's. I was there and saw and heard the horror stories. And yet there were only a relatively few Ryan White's. Yet when the time comes, most people want to put blame on others instead of themselves.

I mourn that people died from aids. I mourn that families were left without loved members, that communities wound up missing valuable people. But ultimately, the fault lies in themselves, not some man that had a sense of his own values and followed them.

So, how bout this...for just a few minutes, a few hours, a few days, lets show the world that we still have some people in it with some class, and keep the bile and hatefullness to ourselves.

Is it really that difficult to do? For my part, i won't post how much i find the idea distasteful that someone like Clinton will be at his funeral.

Fair enough?

Middle Road:

I suppose every flu, cold or other disease I've ever contracted could be tied to a personal action.

I don't fault a President because there was no cure for a disease and I'd really wonder about my heart if I did.

I don't fault a persons' values or worth because they caught a disease and I'd really wonder about my heart if I did.

Or as my old shop teacher put it: "shit happens."

I won't mourn him, but I wouldn't have wished his ailment on him.

He was charismatic and optimistic, yes, but there was always a dark, sinister undercurrent of his administration: ignoring AIDS, Iran/Contra, REX 84, Nicaragua, El Salvador, the unleashing of the corporate feeding frenzy still afflicting us... the list goes on and on. You always got the feeling his 'shining city on the hill' was for Member Only, and I've never bought into the 'St. Ronald' persona drilled into our heads by the 'liberal media.'

maybe Rickshaw1 wouldn't post hate messages the day Clinton dies, but many people will somewhere. I find it irksome that presidents who commit mass-murder are regarded as decent and dignified, but a lying pervert is somehow regarded as worse.

I'm no Clinton fan, by the way. Nor of Kerry or the Bushes. I see little difference between all of them, and wouldn'y buy a used car from any of em.

It's easy to call for respect now that he's dead, respect his victims never received.

Kent, it was more a call for a little civility. Sometimes the bile people spew for one person or another, one idea or another...it needs to be let go. That kinda stuff will eat at your soul and leave you a small, bitter person.

Life is too short to eat yourself up that way. No, the world isn't perfect, and outrages happen. Life isn't fair, just, or right. But we need to let some things go.

I used to have a denim jacket with the legend AC/DC Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap on the back, complete with a picture of RR as seen through a rifle sight. Sonnie'll remember it.

They were harsh times, anyone who lived through those days will remember a climate of fear, wondering who would drop the bomb first.

The Cold War - remember it ladies and gents?
Remember Mutually Assured Destruction? (No, not the crap song by Gillan.)

He was a product of that time, and a strong man in a time when strong men were needed. Although he did appear to be having his strings worked by someone else.


So, no matter what my feelings were at the time I ain't gonna condemn the man, or add any bile to the argument - he did what he felt he had to do.
And lets be honest, he helped to start the dismantling of the Nuclear Arsenals held by the big two - so muchos respect to his memory for that..

Rest In Peace.

Just a pity Maggie didn't go with him.

here here!

Though maybe with a few less sweary words.

Rickshaw1-

you made my point better than I did.

the camp usually the most uncivil toward anyone Different is usually the first to call for it when THEY're on the spotlight.

Rush is a case in point: critical of all the druggies. one he's caught, his allies spin it: "don't you feel sorry for his family?"

I'll respect the right to hold any opinion, I just can't stand hypocracy, from Republicans, Democrats or anyone.